


Have I Told You...

by Mandergee



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Apologies, F/M, Fluff, Just a passing mention of Simmons, Post-Episode: s01e21 Ragtag, Undercover Mission, and fitz, and skye, and trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mandergee/pseuds/Mandergee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "You know when Phil says "I don't know if I've said this enough, but I'm really glad you're back." in Ragtag? Well I was thinking someone should write a fic about the other times Phil said that to Melinda before we actually see him say that in the episode."</p><p>It took me a while to hit this one, because I could never find a fitting moment. I'm glad my anon was patient, because I think it came out well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have I Told You...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to those who read it for me, beforehand. I appreciate it so much.

“Thank god you found them a motel with a pool.” She sat across from him at one of the courtyard tables, watching Skye execute a delicate leap from the diving board as Fitz followed suit- somewhat less delicately, though she suspected he'd meant better. “I don't know what we'd do with them if you'd found one that didn't.”

He'd been quiet since she'd given him the laptop, quieter still after she'd kissed his temple and walked away to leave him alone with his thoughts. She'd taken a room next door and hadn't heard a sound, though she'd stayed up well into the night and listened for anything that might indicate he needed her. It was him that she had come back for, precious cargo in hand, and she wondered if he'd thought much about how she'd gotten the information he'd wanted.

“Phil?”

“I'm glad you're back.” They were the first words he'd spoken to her in an hour, since she'd come outside to find him watching the others splashing in the pool. Triplett sat on the other side, feet dangling into the cool water, and only after a moment of watching them he'd been pulled in, an unidentified hand clasping his ankle and hauling him into the deep. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For bringing the answers.” He looked at her and she thought for a moment that he wasn't seeing _her_ , was still seeing the report playing on the screen in his mind's eye. His surprise had matched her own, and she wondered if, after she'd left, he'd cried like she had. Cried for himself, for the knowledge that he might slowly descend into darkness because of something he'd begged to have stopped. He'd begged to die, and as she'd sat in her rental car and watched the image of his face fade from the screen, she'd cried for the man she was afraid she would lose to everything he'd said could happen. The man she could have lost, if they'd listened to him then. “I'm sorry, May. I was mean. You didn't deserve that.”

“It's done.” It was water under the bridge, she'd have said once, and as she reached out to put her hand over his she saw in his eyes that he knew that. They'd been through far too much together for him to believe otherwise, and she imagined he'd probably believed it all along. “You were angry. I understand.”

“I hurt you.”

“I don't...you didn't.” She _wanted_ to tell him how _much_ he had hurt her, how much pain it had given her to watch his face contorting with rage, to hear his voice lash out at her with words she'd never expected to hear. ' _We don't do personal- not anymore_.' But it wasn't what he needed to hear. “Phil. What matters now is that we have the answers. We know who was behind T.A.H.I.T.I, and we know what to look out for. You're going to be all right- we just have to keep going. We have bigger things to worry about right now, and that's the truth of it.”

“You're right.” He looked out at the water, at the team who had, for the moment, let themselves forget that they were all displaced in the world, that the organization they'd stood for was in shambles. They didn't know that the man they had stood with, the man they were fighting side by side with...was a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode into madness. “You've got my back, don't you?”

“I always will.” When she'd stepped into his motel room and seen the way his sheets were twisted, his pillow crushed, she'd wondered if he'd already begun to slip away. When he'd stepped inside and he'd seen her standing there, she'd known that he was still the man she fought for. The man she would stand side by side with. “What's our next move?”

“We fight.” He caught Triplett's eye and the younger man nodded, reaching out to deliver one last dunk to the laughing Simmons before wading his way into shallow waters and dragging himself and his sopping clothes up the ladder. “Trip got us a few of his grandfather's tools- we're going to see if they still work.”

“You must be in your element.” She smiled, and beneath her hand she saw his fingers curl up, entangle with hers. It felt good again- it felt right, and she realized how much she'd missed it. “So we fight. And we win.”

“And we win.” He agreed. “For S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“For S.H.I.E.L.D.”

~~~

She didn't like undercover- never had, made it perfectly clear to him on multiple occasions, and she was more than aware of the fact that this was the first time she hadn't objected to going into the field in disguise. It wasn't the first time they'd gone together, and she allowed herself a moment to think back on how different the train situation might have gone if _he'd_ been with her, instead of Ward. The frigid wife with the accountant husband, because he always, with her, had played the accountant husband to her rich, privileged bride.

“Do you remember the last time we did this?” Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, tie twisted deftly until it fell in a soft whip down her back, and she nodded at her image in the mirror, satisfied. “The op in Paris?”

“The museum.” He nodded back, his reflection visible to her from the view her angle allowed into the open bedroom. “You really had them convinced.”

“The dress helped.” She'd been given the allowance to buy a wardrobe necessary to play the part, and the dress she'd chosen for the museum benefit had been a sheath of siren red, straps hugging her shoulders and bodice just low enough to draw attention when needed. Coulson had denied it, and she'd pretended to be convinced, but she'd been sure he would have done anything she'd asked if he hadn't been involved in the op himself. ' _You're beautiful, May. They won't know what hit them_.'

' _They will when I do'_ , she'd laughed, and looped her arm through his as they'd exited the limo and walked through the doors to put on their performance. An art heist ring, led by a man whose ability to walk through walls had been rumored for years, and they'd finally caught the opportunity to bring him in.

“I'm not entirely convinced that you couldn't have had him eating out of the palm of your hand by the end of it, if you needed to.” She buttoned her sweater and checked her reflection one last time, walking out of the bathroom to find him turning from the mirror. “What do you think?”

“I think you look like an accountant,” She teased, reaching out to trail her fingers up his tie, yank gently on it until it was angled just right. “But they might buy you as a scientist.”

“I think you might be more distracting in the red dress.” His eyes met hers and her image was reflected over them, captured in the glare from his glasses. She wondered if he was still remembering that mission, and wished she could wear the dress again if it would bring that look back into his eyes that she'd seen back then. “But if you add some glasses of your own, you might just make do.”

“I've got them right here.” She couldn't remember ever telling him she _had_ glasses, a pair she rarely used, and as they settled onto her face she remembered how much she disliked them. “How do I look?”

“Have I told you,” He reached over and pushed them gently up the bridge of her nose, finger sliding back down to tap the tip lightly. “How glad I am that you're back?”

“Not enough,” She replied, and reached for the door, opening it to gesture him through. “But you can tell me again later, when we're done.”

“And you look fine,” He added, as she locked the door behind them and tucked the key into her pocket. A knowing smile spread over his face, and she raised an eyebrow as he gave her a sly wink. “But I've always liked those glasses, especially how they fall down your nose when you're asleep.”


End file.
